


Darling, I'm a Nightmare Dressed Like a Daydream

by sharlleglerg



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insomnia, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25444666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharlleglerg/pseuds/sharlleglerg
Summary: -You are gonna get yourself hurt, like a lot.-That’s all I ever wished for.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Darling, I'm a Nightmare Dressed Like a Daydream

**Author's Note:**

> So two pieces in a week, and in entirely different directions, now I'm officially running out of ideas.  
> The title came from Tyler Swift's 《blank space》.  
> I love Charles, and this is just some sickness in my mind.  
> Again, apologise in advance for any grammar errors or lousy word choices. I don't even know if I should use the simple present or the simple past tense. And don't know if my tags warned enough.

Charles Leclerc, the most incredible creature on earth, was handsome, charming, polite, and humble, with the most seductive green eyes and the most innocent smile. He spoke in fancy words and had a tragic past which broke people's hearts. He was known as the jewel in the crown of Ferrari, worshiped and cherished as if he were some kind of beautiful, precious, fragile porcelain. He was like a prince that every girl could ever dream of. But he couldn't be with anyone of them.

He couldn't risk the chance to be found out that beneath that gorgeous look, he's empty inside. There's this vast black hole inside him that sucked every piece of love and warmth in his life. What would people think if they came to know that he couldn't sleep at night, screaming and crying out of horrible nightmares, curling up in bed, shivering? The responsibilities, the expectations, the missions on his shoulders, even though he couldn't care less, he didn't want to let people down. Yes, that's just him, a total people pleaser, twisted himself into any shapes that people love to see.

But not with Max.

* * *

It's no secret that Max despised him because the Dutchman seemed never bothered to hide it. He hated his hypocrisy, his perfect fake smile, his elaborate lies, pretending to be strong, and acting like everything is fine. He found it all just annoying and disgusting—the younger one needed to be taught a lesson of genuine. So Max just loved to tear him apart, make him apologize, cry and beg for mercy. He's always naked in front of Max, not only his body but also his soul. Their relationship was toxic, but he couldn't help to indulge.

"You are gonna get yourself hurt, like a lot." Pierre once said in concern.

He smiled and didn't say anything. But in his head, there's a line said: "That's all I ever wished for."

The thirst for victory was the only thing that drove him forward. And when he couldn't get it, the obsession with pain would be his ultimate redemption.

* * *

"Max, you're hurting me!" He cried out.

"Yeah? I thought you would appreciate it." Max smiled viciously.

"Yes…"

"Then suck it up and stop whining like a little bitch!"

"Sorry."

Max controlled everything, when it started and when it ended, and didn't give a damn about his pleasure. He was just like a whore to him, only showed up when summoned, and should get lost after used. He was actually fine being manipulated like a doll because it was just like his life off track, being pushed along, going with the flow, and not being able to control anything.

* * *

"Sorry, Max, I'm just not in the mood."

"Yeah? Since when did your mood matter?"

He didn't have the nerve to say no, knowing Max would abandon him within a blink like he was some kind of trash. And then, would he ever find anyone else who could put up with his sickness?

So, like always, he hid everything deep inside, put on his signature fake smile, and said: "Fuck me, please."

"Well, now that's a good boy."

He was good at hiding. He thought that was the only thing he was good at other than driving. No matter the bruises were on his body or his heart, no one ever found out. People just assumed that young and rich lead to happiness. Only he himself knew how miserable and pathetic he was, and didn't deserve any nice things in his life.

Usually, he wouldn't stay overnight. But this time he's just too exhausted to get up, and Max seemed OK with that, not saying a word, until he screamed out of his nightmare, again.

He always dreamed of a catastrophe. The cracked earth separated his loved ones from him. And then, one by one, falling into the center of the earth, drowning in the fire and lava, and there was nothing he could do about it.

When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the floor. A sharp pain spread from his thigh. And it looked like Max just kicked him off the bed. He struggled to get up, then meet the eyes filled with anger.

"For god's sake, what's wrong with you? Just get the hell out!"

"Thank you for tonight." Polite words flowed naturally from his mouth, paired with a proper smile on his lips. He picked up his clothes from the floor and stepped out the door.

He didn't feel any embarrassment or humiliation. His self-esteem had long gone into the black hole. With the ruthlessness and cruelness he had just been subjected to, he could finally take a break from what haunted him in the nightmare. So he just threw himself on the bed and fell asleep immediately.

* * *

Max never texted him again since that day. It took him a month to admit that their relationship had expired. So for the first time in his life, he did something he knew the person wouldn't be pleased. He stopped Max in a lane.

"Are you tired of me?" He asked cautiously.

Max chewed his gum, "You know how I hate troubles. The minute I smell something wrong, I'm out right away."

"OK. So we are done." He muttered.

"What? It's not like we are dating that I need to break up with you properly."

"Thank you for letting me know." He smiled a little and turned to leave.

"That's just great." He thought to himself. First, he started the season without a winnable car, now even the pain he wanted was gone, along with the comfort and pleasure that came with it. The two things that truly mattered in his life, yet he lost them both.

After that, he just stopped thinking. Even the slightest thought was too much for him to handle. And everything on earth seemed to lose its meaning. The sunlight didn't feel warm, the wind didn't smell fresh, the flowers didn't look colorful, and all the words towards him disappeared into the background of a mime. He tried, then failed, and no one appreciated him. He suffocated in air, unable to breathe.

Perhaps that was what he deserved, for being a nightmare dressed like a daydream.


End file.
